Spilling From Reality Rancid
by Deena
Summary: In order to find out the truth about his parents, Soujirou embroils himself with underground heiress Yukishiro Tomoe and takes on the task of murdering a one red-haired assassin.*AU, yaoi, hetro, Aoshi/Soujirou, Kenshin/Tomoe, Enishi/Kaoru*
1. Prologue

Author's Note:

Rurouni Kenshin doesn't belong to me. All lyrics I use don't belong to me. 

This story is completely AU, set in present day Tokyo. I've taken liberties with ages, namingly most characters are older then they were in the series/manga. This is primarily a yaoi story focusing around Aoshi/Soujirou as a couple. This means **Man X Man** so if this grosses you out or you are a die hard A/M fan then get lost. Other pairings in this story will eventually, probably be Kenshin/Tomoe, Enishi/Kaoru and possibly Sano/Misao. Please enjoy and leave a comment if you wish.

I dedicate this to Midori who is great to talk to, a spiffy writer and loves Aoshi/Soujirou almost as much as me! Go read her writing now, she's amazing!

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Spilling From Reality Rancid

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**~*~Prologue~*~**

_Let me nail you to the treason wall_

_Stab the night and day from your sight_

_And set the thought to flame_

**~*~** **The Treason Wall – Dark Tranquility~*~**

"Upon one condition."

The smile didn't waver from his face, despite the unease that swept over him. Her words were a chill. They hung in the air as thick as the while plum scent she wore. She was dangerous, this Yukishiro Tomoe, regardless of what her serene demeanour belied. 

"Condition?" Beneath the table, hidden from her cool gaze, Seta Soujirou clenched icy fingers together. Beyond that one action, there were no other outwardly signs that the young man was troubled. "What sort of condition? This was not spoken of before. I have the money you requested and that is all."

From his pocket he pulled out a plain envelope and set it upon the table, before her. Within the envelope he had gathered twenty American hundred dollar bills, all gained by ill-gotten means. It hadn't been easy but for this, there had been no other choice.

With slender fingers, Tomoe pushed the envelope back towards him. "Keep it. Of money I've plenty. Rather, I wish something else of you. A task, it you would."

Soujirou didn't touch the money. "And if I won't?"

The gambit spun between them. One fine, black brow arched. Her eyes glittered in the dim light. "Then I shall part with you, taking with me all my means. We will not meet again and none such as I will you find. Perhaps you might be...confronted for lack of a better word, for squandering my time. Those in my keep are loyal to me. I cannot say what may or may not happen."

The flickering candlelight cast luminous shadows upon her cheekbones. She was beautiful in the night, pale and frost-touched. He had come far to meet her, across months and desire. He took the money and slid it back into his pocket. "What is your condition then?"

Her wine-colored lips curved slightly. Ivory fingertips skimmed at the lock of inky hair that splashed against her cheek; a gesture that called forth a very tall, very burly man from the side door. He addressed Tomoe as 'My Lady' and handed her a black folder before disappearing. 

Tomoe let the folder slip from her fingers. It fell upon the polished surface of the glass table and looked as an ominous stain might. "Open it."

Soujirou obeyed, though loathing to do so. The folder was thick, filled with sheaves of information. In the left pocket, in front of what looked like a detailed itinerary, was a medium-sized glossy photo. The subject was a young man, with vibrant red hair, violet-hued eyes and a single scarred slash that marred most of his left cheek. 

"Know him well," Tomoe spoke, her voice falling to a soft whisper. "Read of him and mark him. He is the one you are to kill."

_Kill_.

Still the smile would not leave his face, as it had not since that one night, long ago.

_A rain painted night, hiding tears._

He closed the folder, uncaring if she caught glimpse his trembling fingers. He could not look upon the violet-eyed man. "Why are you asking me, when your others would do it gladly?"

She smiled a tiny smile, devoid of all warmth. "What I know of you pleases me. What I ask...it is not unknown to you. Stained hands will forever remain stained, whether from one life or ten."

_She knew._

He breathed sharply, unable to find words to speak. This feeling...this rioting feeling...but he _had_ no feelings, hadn't since...and she knew of it.

"This man is no different then those you once knew." The smile vanished from her face. Her eyes were hard and bitter. "He has killed my fiancé and for that he must atone. I will not allow him to go free."

And if he did indeed kill this scarred, red-haired man, how then would _he_ atone? Killing a killer...but he was already a killer. It didn't matter, one more person. Tomoe knew that, as she seemed to know much and because of that, because of _that_ night which no one knew of...

"You're asking too much of me," he finally said, as evenly as he could. "Mistakes of the past are not to be repeated. That I should kill one who has killed, that you would ask me, when it would not-"

"I haven't come here to discuss the nature of morality with you," Tomoe interrupted, her pitch-like eyes locking onto his. "A simple yes or no will do. However, before your choice is made, I would ask that you think of what you want from me. Think about what I know and what is in my power and then decide."

The enormous picture window beside them showed him his smiling reflection. He knew what he had to do, rather what he _wanted_ to do. He looked again at her and she saw her answer.

"For me you will kill this one Himura Kenshin and in return I shall refer you to the elusive Oniwa Banshuu. Have we an agreement?"

Soujirou sealed their contract. "I agree."


	2. Chapter I : Blood Lust

**~*~Chapter I – Blood Lust~*~**

_Not once did you cry_

_For the lost ones of your world_

_Your care is limited_

_To this Demigod _

_Unto which you cluster_

**~*~Decrystallizing Reason – Emperor~*~**

How did one prepare to kill a man?

Soujirou didn't know.

All the information contained within the black folder, as well as everything inside the package Yukishiro had delivered to his apartment later that afternoon, he had memorized. He knew things like where this Himura character lived, how to access his home, his bank account status and who he spoke with. There was enough information but at the same time, there was a lot was missing. Something was off about this guy and all the things that were untold made Soujirou uneasy. For example, there was no clear indication of what Himura did as a job. Nothing was written about his history, only that he'd come to Tokyo five years ago. Places he liked to visit, any hobbies he had, none of that was mentioned.

While Soujirou was hardly interested in knowing what the man he was to kill liked to do on Sundays, it was odd that Yukishiro hadn't provided him with everything she knew. Everything he'd ever heard about Yukishiro Tomoe painted her to be a cold, extremely meticulous woman. That she would consciously withhold data that might aid him, struck him as ominous. There were only two reasons he could come up with, as far as lack of information went. Either Yukishiro was keeping things from him, which was highly likely or she had given him all that she knew about Himura Kenshin. Both reasons were disconcerting.

But in the end, the result was the same. He had to kill. Once more. Because stained hands were always stained hands. Because he was selfish. Above all he was selfish. He would murder some unknown man for knowledge, at the bidding of one of the most corrupt families in all of Japan.

Soujirou closed the folder. The image of the red-haired man was etched into his mind. "Tonight," he whispered aloud.

Outside it began to rain.

Ignoring the pangs of apprehension that festered within the pit of his stomach, Soujirou locked away all the material concerning his assignment into the filing cabinet that stood beside his bed. Then he sent a quick fax to Yukishiro's private number, informing her that tonight her request would be completed. He forced the enormity of the task before him from his mind and instead turned to the only thing that was able to sooth him, his katana. The sword was an authentic piece from days long gone by and it had at one point belonged to a real daimyo. It was also one of the true links to his past. Soujirou sat down with the sword and honed the blade until it was sharp enough to cut his skin from millimetres away. He sharpened and polished until his fingers were numb and only stopped with the arrival of his roommate.

Soujirou didn't like the idea of having a roommate but when it became clear that he couldn't afford the raise in rent, he'd been forced to find one. A student of the nearby University of Tokyo and part-time Kendo instructor at a local dojo, Kamiya Kaoru seemed like the perfect roommate. She was sweet, hard-working, spunky and caring. Approximately one week later he came to realize that she was also loud, hot-tempered, pushy, naive and nosy. She was constantly sticking her nose into his business and trying to find out about him. She was of the opinion that they didn't 'communicate' enough with each other. She was a very emotional sort, whether it was getting pissed off at school or crying at soaps. 

The front door opened and slammed shut. He could hear Kaoru stomping through the living room and towards his room, muttering under her breath. 

She flung his door open without knocking, as usual. "I'm completely soaked!" she moaned, flinging long, soggy strands from her damp cheek. "I can't believe the forecast never said anything about rain! Meteorology is such a scam. God I hate rain. On the way home some stupid bus splashed me and all these jerks started laughing at me! And then tomorrow's my big Calc. final and I'm doomed for that and to top it all off I've got a killer headache. Man I need to change my clothes. Tell me we have Aspirin."

"In the bathroom cabinet."

"I hate studying," Kaoru groused as she shuffled away, coming and going like an emotional whirlwind.

Soujirou listened to her bang around in the bathroom. Whenever she was in the apartment, she made her presence known. At first it had been weird, hearing her talk to herself and sing to herself constantly. Now it comforted him. He didn't have a lot of experience with girls but he did know that Kaoru was different. Her life hadn't been easy but in spite of that, she was still optimistic and very innocent. It wasn't easy to remain innocent, especially when one was all own.

He tucked away his katana and changed into black cargo pants. He put on a black hooded-sweatshirt over the T-shirt he wore and dug out a pair of gloves. Now he would wait until ten-thirty before leaving. Sticking the gloves under his pillow, he headed into the kitchen for something to eat. 

Kaoru, wearing her infamous black and yellow striped pajamas, was making soup. Soujirou thought she looked like a giant bumble bee. "If I catch a cold them I'm gonna be _screwed_," she declared, liberally shaking black pepper into the pot. "Why do I always get sick around finals?"

"I'm sure you're be fine." Soujirou turned his smile upon her as he poured himself a glass of juice. 

Kaoru looked at him suspiciously, noting his 'work' clothing, as she liked to call them. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Just out for a while."

"Doing what?" She left the stove to come lord over him, her hands on her hips. "Where are you going? You never tell me anything! If you're doing illegal stuff for that Saitou guy then I swear I'll-"

"I'm just meeting a friend," he lied, all too easily. "There isn't any reason to worry. I'm not going to get you into trouble, Kaoru. You should know that by now."

"Still I don't like it!"

Soujirou didn't look at her. Sometimes she was too much. His smile chilled. "You don't have to like it. This is what I do."

She recognized the coldness in his voice and knew that she was treading dangerous ground. "Just be careful," she muttered, turning back to the stove.

One of the main spots of contention between them was Soujirou's job. He worked for Police Chief Hajime Saitou and his wife Homicide Detective Tokio, as an underground informant. Mostly he did illegal work that they as police weren't allowed to do in order to crack a case or catch a particular offender. It wasn't the easiest job but it paid and that was enough for him. As it was, he owed Saitou a great deal. 

Kaoru had found about his work accidentally one day and now she was frequently worrying about him. At first it had been flattering, being as he'd come a long way without anyone to worry about him. Now though, it annoyed him to no end. He didn't like the idea that Kaoru should know what he did. If he ever got in serious trouble, he knew that she'd be the first one to hurl herself in the midst of danger and try to rescue him. He didn't want to be responsible for her getting hurt. She really was nothing more than an expendable vulnerability.

They ate in silence. He could see that Kaoru had lectures itching under her tongue but she held them closed. She knew when to press him and when to keep quiet. When they finished eating, she headed to her room to study while he cleaned up.

A nervous energy was pooling within him. Though he couldn't quite place his finger upon it, he could feel that something was amiss. His instincts were blaring warning signals. The night would not go as planned. He might be hurt or exposed or caught. Then even Saitou wouldn't be able to protect him, not as he had once did. It was hopeless. All the odds were against him, that he should actually accomplish this murder.

Why would Yukishiro ask _him_ to do this, of all people? She had scores of men at her beck, all more capable then he. So why would she choose him? He couldn't explain it. And then there was Himura. Was he truly such a horrible person? Why had he killed Yukishiro's fiancé? What of all the people the Yukishiro family had killed over the years? 

Could he really and truly kill again?

"I'm desperate," Soujirou said aloud and he knew that he would...or die trying.

And desperation, he had long since learned, was a dangerous thing.

**~*~*~*~*~**

"How the hell am I supposed to integrate this stupid trig function?" Kaoru growled in frustration, tossing down her scientific calculator. "Like I know what the anti-derivative of damn secant is!" 

Kaoru was in a bitchy mood. She'd been studying for hours now and hadn't learned anything. Her head was aching, she couldn't concentrate on studying and she was worried about that smiley dumbass Soujirou. He had left ages ago, without even saying good-bye. Damn him! He just never appreciated how much she actually cared for him. 

"Sometimes I really hate that guy," she complained, stretching. "Sometimes I really hate Calculus. Sometimes I really hate finals. Sometimes I really hate-"

A very sudden and very loud banging upon the front door interrupted her griping. 

She looked at her clock. It was ten after nine. "Who's out there at this hour?"

The knocking continued. It was sharp and insistent, grinding upon her headache. 

"What the hell!" Kaoru slid out from behind her desk and stalked out of her room. "Yeah yeah I'm coming!" 

The knocking didn't stop, not even for one second. It must have awakened half the building by now! 

"If it's that damn Yahiko them I swear I'm gonna murder him!"

She reached the front door and yanked it open, yelling, "Yahiko _shut the frig up_!"

But it wasn't that brat Yahiko from down the hall, it was a strange guy she'd never seen before. He was tall, with spiky, frost- white hair and round John Lennon style glasses. The expression on his face, which Kaoru may have noticed if she hadn't been so irate, was aloof and dangerous. 

"What the hell are you trying to do, rouse the whole damn building?" Kaoru was super pissed. Her head was literally throbbing because of this knocking idiot. "Good Lord they can probably hear your bangings all the way in Okinawa! Are you crazy? What the hell is your problem? You've completely aggravated my migraine I hope you know! How rude can you get, practically pounding my door down like that!"

The white-haired young man, who was none other then the younger brother to Yukishiro Tomoe and head of one of the biggest underground drug and weaponry rings in all of Japan, stared at the girl before him. He wasn't an easy person to catch off guard, but this girl had managed it. He pushed up his glasses. "You're making twice as much noise with your pathetic rantings."

Kaoru narrowed her eyes. The nerve of this guy! "Don't wise off at me creep, I'm not in the mood! I don't know who you are but if you don't leave right now, then I'll make you sorry! Now buzz off!"

She tried slamming the door shut but he caught her hand in his cold grip. His bones crushed upon hers. He was strong, beyond anyone she's ever encountered.

"I don't take well to threats," he warned, his voice low and poisonous. 

His eyes scathed hers and Kaoru knew fear. She yanked her hand back, determined not to appear weak. "Neither do I," she spat, unable to help from rubbing at her wrist. The guy had one hell of a grasp. "Now tell me what you want and then get lost!"

"Where's Soujirou?" 

Figured that this lunatic was one of Soujirou's buddies! "How should I know?"

He took a step forward, openly intimidating her. "When did he leave?"

Kaoru moved backwards and hated herself for it "What do you think I look like, his mother?"

In a heartbeat, he had both of his hands encircling her throat. His fingers dug into her skin. Kaoru choked and she could see her wide eyes reflected in his glasses. She began to struggle and tried to kick him when he thrust her hard up against the doorjamb, his clasp tightening.

"Keep moving and I _will_ kill you," he hissed, his face only centimetres from hers. 

Kaoru stilled, her heart hammering.

"I have the friends all over this city," he bit out, his breath fanning over her cheeks. "I could kill you right now and no one would ever find your body. I'm warning you, next time you decide to get mouthy with me, you'll find yourself six feet under. You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight bitch."

He let go of her, shoving her roughly so that she stumbled backwards and would have fallen had she not caught hold of the door knob. He smirked and disappeared. 

Kaoru let go of the door and gingerly touched her throat. The skin was tender and was already beginning to bruise. She could barely swallow, the pain was so great. She closed the door and locked it with shaking fingers.

Rage slowly began diffusing her fear. She was _not_ going to let this pass.


	3. Chapter II : Where The Night Smears

**~*~****Chapter II – Where The Night Smears****~*~**

_Who lasts the longest_

_Is who suffered the most_

**~*~Memories of Blood – Cryptopsy~*~**

The night was a murky web of thick shadows. There was no moon, no stars. Only streetlamps splashed bits of buttery light onto the cracking asphalt. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a dripping, icy wind. There was solitude all around him, silent and watchful. No one was about. 

It was a night made for secrecy and things destined to be.

Himura lived in one of Tokyo's lower class quarters, where the maze-like streets were crammed full with rows of narrow, dilapidated houses. The threat of violence hung heavy over areas such as these. These were the homes of Yakuza members, prostitutes, drug sellers, broken families. This type of neighbourhood was well known to Soujirou. He knew well what lay behind the chipped, peeling walls. The places and people varied but the situations were always the same. 

The unusual, heavy silence was shattered by a lady's scream. A man's deep voice rose to join her. They argued, in muffled tones coming from far off and then there was silence again. Soujirou slipped further into the shadows, unseen and unheard. Chills clung to his skin as the feeling of rooted unease intensified. 

Only after a good twenty minutes had passed did he finally find the house he'd been looking for. It was as unremarkable as the others, with crumbling brick walls and deep fractures in the windowpanes. Yukishiro had given him a duplicate of the key to the rear door. He wrapped his cold fingers around the hard steel and surreptitiously made his way towards the back. His footfalls trod upon thick tufts of weed grass and crumpled litter. Passing through the broken wooden gate, he raked his gaze over his surroundings. The back garden, a miniscule, overgrown affair, was separated from the other houses by a tangled thicket of wild bush and rotting fence. He stepped upon uneven stone steps and unlocked the rear door.

All at once, Soujirou knew that he wasn't alone.

A fierce presence emanated throughout the tiny house, diffusing through the stale air like the smell of cooking. The aura of this unknown stranger grated against his own. It was harsh, hateful. He felt a tremendous energy made up of crushing emotions. There was anticipation and rage and caution and above all, something murderous. A killing desire for blood. Whoever lurked was seeking to slay. 

The atmosphere rippled with an ominous edge. There would be brutality tonight. He could see that as clear as he could decipher the impressions coiling throughout the house. Soujirou closed the door as swiftly as he dared, slicing off the scant light that slid across the sunken linoleum floor. Darkness enshadowed him. He paused, allowing his eyes to adjust. From another world it seemed, he could hear the same woman shrieking again. 

Was it Himura waiting hidden for him, having somehow gained knowledge of Yukishiro's plans? Or was this some other person also seeking to kill the scarred redhead? Either way Soujirou supposed it didn't matter. Blood would spill, either his own or the other's. It was what he'd come to accomplish. The end wouldn't matter, not in a situation such as this. Because after all...

_Stained hands will forever remain stained_.

...truth, however callous, was unchanging.

He crept forward, slinking into the black embrace Himura's home had wrought. All his sensory perceptions were magnified, heightened. Every creak in the house, every shift and every movement, he could feel. This was what he'd been trained for so long ago. This is what he _knew_. He tightened numb fingers around the hilt of his katana. There could be no hesitation now. Someone was here to kill.

The house was devoid of all noise. There was only the overpowering force of some enraged though wary stranger. It came from beyond the living room, from the bedroom. Soujirou made not a single sound as he breezed through the scant room and into the hallway. Yukishiro had provided him with floor plans of Himura's house and so he knew that to the right was a washroom and to the left, one bedroom. He shifted forward.   

That was all it took.

The deadened air sizzled. Cold steel slivered, emerging from a looming shape of murky shade. Two blades there were, thirsting for scarlet fluid. Soujirou, being the quicker, slashed his katana upwards. Steel ground upon steel, clattering into the darkness. The second blade though, its mark was true. Fire danced in a river upon the curve of Soujirou's upper arm. Blood fanned upon the flaking wall. 

This sort of quickness he had not expected. Surprise overwhelmed him. His opponent was stronger that he'd anticipated. It couldn't be Himura, this stranger that prowled through this silent house. Himura was a short, slight man while this person was tall, with a foreboding, livid aura. 

Soujirou darted backwards, bringing his katana parallel to his body while holding the hilt before his face in an offensive First Stance. The stranger also fell into a Stance, a defensive one Soujirou didn't recognize. A lull puddled between them as each sized the other. Soujirou felt his smile grow. While this stranger was rapid, he could not be as rapid as he.

The house creaked and that was their cue. They broken stance.

 Soujirou flung his blade forward with a speed that surpassed human ability and skin was shorn. The other's blood fell in great splatters. The force of his slash sent the tall stranger reeling backwards into the wall. Soujirou advanced. The stranger was swift, on his feet and defending in seconds. He was talented and now wary, as he fought with Soujirou.

"Your death is mine," the man snarled, his voice low and cold. "This time you will not live Kenshin!"

Those words startled Soujirou and he lost precious seconds. The man arced with his first blade, his steel meeting Soujirou's. With the second he thrust and it slit at the boy's collarbone. Soujirou choked, blood swelling at his lips. He was driven to his knees. The man kicked at him with brutal strength. Soujirou was quick but not quick enough. The blow caught him in the left side of the neck. There was another kick, rupturing at his trachea. 

Sweat-slick fingers tightened around the hilt of his katana. Soujirou was beaming, in spite of this pain. He allowed one final swipe and then he was on his feet, in an instant. The blunt side of his katana stung the man full in the face.

"Not Ken...shin," Soujirou gurgled around a mouthful of blood. 

He jumped forward, his katana dancing in a swirl against the other's. They sparred with a fury that flamed the air. Blood spilled in clotting drools, coiling upon erratic breathing. Soujirou couldn't speak, couldn't form the words to tell this murderous stranger that he wasn't the man he sought to kill. So he fought with waning strength, as rapid as his aching body would allow. He damaged the other but the man was fighting with two blades and a will that surpassed Soujirou's by far. His reasons to kill Kenshin were personal; that much Soujirou could read, while he was only doing the bidding of another.

Soujirou hissed as the other managed to strike with his second blade, once again searing at his throat. Soujirou's vision swam. He managed a weak slash before the stranger jammed the hilt of his first blade straight into Soujirou's jaw. 

The world fractured and he knew he'd been beaten into unconsciousness.

**~*~*~*~*~**

Five burly security guards stepped aside as Yukishiro Tomoe passed through the double Mahogany doors and into her stepfather's ornate bedchamber. In spite of the room's enormity, the smell of both Wisteria and sickness was cloying. The heavy, brocade curtains were tightly drawn, closing the night from the room. Only the ceiling chandelier was lit and it had been dimmed to a low, amber glow. Her slight movements cast angling shadows upon the maroon and grey papered walls.  

Beside the postered, curtained bed sat an elderly nurse knitting. Upon perceiving Tomoe she stood, bowed low and took her leave. Only when the solid doors had been firmly closed did Tomoe step onto the marble dais the grand bed sat upon. She gazed down at the gaunt countenance of the man who believed that she was his own true daughter. He had been one of the most powerful men in all of Asia and now his entire empire rest in her hands, the bastard child of his wife and her illicit lover.

"Father." She gently perched upon the edge of the bed, beside her stepfather's limp, spotted hand.

Lashes fluttered as he slowly awoke. Pale, bloodshot eyes stared up at her. Once so strong and handsome, he was now reduced to brittle bones and trembling limbs. His body was dying but his mind, his mind was still as shrew as it had ever been.

"My child," he croaked, his voice parched. His gummy lips were cracked. "Tomoe."

She took the half-filled glass of water that sat upon his Oak night table and carefully fed him a few sips of the tepid fluid. The tiny action left him gasping, his thin chest heaving beneath the thick comforters. She lifted his warm, mottled hand into hers and waited for his spell to pass.

"What shall I do for you father?"

He had never been one for sentiments or other such weaknesses but upon his deathbed, he'd softened. Now his watery gaze was filled with pride. "You have done as I would, daughter. There is nothing left to ask. You know all that I desire."

"And you will have it. Do you know this evening _he_ left Tokyo." A faint, humourless smile touched dark-painted lips. "I shall follow him. I realize that _I_ wish to do it. Another won't take this pleasure from me. I would hear him scream and in his suffering, I will know peace."

"You have always pleased me Tomoe," he whispered, managing to tighten his flaccid fingers around hers for a scant moment. 

"You honour me, father." She soothed the blankets around his bony form. "I won't rest until I've taken life. Of this I vow."

"And then shall I rest, when you are in peace." Rheumy eyes close. "Read to me, child. I would hear your voice upon this black night."

Tomoe obeyed, reading softly until he fell asleep once more. She spared one final look to the dying man. His body repulsed her. She left the room.

In the vast, marbled corridor that lead to her chambers in the Eastern Wing, she was intercepted by a young maid who informed her that her younger brother awaited her arrival. She found Enishi in her living room, pacing like a barred criminal.

She dismissed all the servants from her quarters before sitting down. She knew something had gone awry. "Did you find him?"

"Himura's house was empty. The kid wasn't there." Enishi pushed up his glasses with one long finger, impatience marking his stance. "We searched the whole goddamn neighbourhood. Nobody saw or heard anything. The only thing we can tell is that a fight went down. A big one."

Inky eyes narrowed slightly. "We both know Himura left the city hours ago."

"Yeah but _someone_ was there and they probably took the kid with them. There was blood all over the place." A cool smirk slid across his features. "A real gorefest."

Tomoe allowed herself a tiny smile. "It's all yours then. Find Seta Soujirou and this mysterious stranger. I want to know exactly what happened tonight."

"Any holds barred?" 

"None. I grant you full reign." She unfolded herself from the loveseat and stood. "I only ask that you keep the boy alive. He interests me." 

"You're the boss." His eyes flashed behind his glasses. "Soon to be Mistress of this whole fucking city."

Tomoe added ice and a splash of Vodka to two French-cut glasses. "Have we not earned this?"

Enishi took his glass from her. "The world's an oyster ," he quipped, pouring Fire Whisky to his vodka. "We deserve all this shit."

"Yes. I want only your happiness." She touched cool fingers to the slope of his cheek. "You are my all."

His hand curved around hers. "It's not too late to change your mind. You should stay here. I'll go and hunt down that bastard. Say the words."

Tomoe shook her head. "Himura leaving before the boy could complete the task is a sign. I see now that this is my path. I shall find him myself and know the colour of his blood."

"I see." Enishi was disapproving but he knew nothing could sway his sister once she'd made a decision. "You'll be careful?"

She took a sip of her drink, feeling the bitter liquid spill into her throat. "Am I not always? Failure will _not_ be bourn."


End file.
